A Year Ago I Was In The Shower

That is so crazy to me. This time last year, we didn't have a baby yet. On this night last year, I was in the shower, in labor, only about 9 hours away from making the decision to go to the hospital. I was tired and bored because I'd been having contractions for like two days already and had had very little sleep, and the only way to not be in too much pain was by standing in the shower, and it gets boring in there.

But also, I was scared. Joe's and my life together had been wonderful, and once we finally achieved pregnancy, I didn't know why I ABSOLUTELY HAD TO HAVE A BABY. I didn't even know what a baby WAS; I hadn't been around any. Why would we change our good life by bringing into it such a responsibility, by making such a choice that could never be taken back? How was it possible that my "biological clock" could push us into doing something with the vague logic that, if we didn't, maybe our lives would be empty when we were old?

Then Raleigh was born, and there was no magical surge of mystical mommy-love. He was nice, sweet, but I guess in sort of a kitteny way. The only face I could think of to make in those first photos with him - how I regret now that I forced any expression - was a "Wow, I made this" face.

The day of his birth and the two or three right after that were some of the most perfect in my life. If I could re-live any time of my life, I would go back there and write everything down, capture it to be savored any time forever. The celebration; having all this food brought to me; people happy around me because I did something great. A triumphant moment still in the beginning of my life. It brought uncomfortable thoughts about the end of my life - growing up, more responsibility, getting older - but that was easy to ignore in the beautiful homecoming, with Joe having made the house spotless before Raleigh and I were released from the hospital.

But then I awoke to the day when those sparkling first days were over. Like that feeling you get when you've been on vacation but now it's over and you're back to your regular life but worse than regular, because you were just free and it's going to be a very long time before you get to be free again.

I had feared that my life would be erased. This is what the world says about having a kid: You will cease to exist and also cease to ever get any sleep. Raleigh needed when I didn't feel like giving, and I felt so alone with his neediness. Because of him, I couldn't do the fun stuff I had done before; my other life was lost to me. My marriage hadn't caught up to these new conditions yet. I had no idea things would get better. In the darkest moments of those newborn days, in my thoughts I had secret conversations with myself to figure out whether I really would choose to die to protect him like I was supposed to. I came to "yes" just by default, because that's what you do if you're decent...but honestly, it was reluctant. Even adoption crossed my mind. (But no way, the thought of someone else raising my baby made me feel territorial.)

Dark days. My baby was easy but early motherhood was hard and I thought my life was over.

I was wrong. I mean, it was really scary for a little while there, but as Raleigh became cooler and more able to do stuff instead of just generally needy and unrewarding, I fell in love.

He grew. We grew. As of just a few weeks ago, our marriage has caught up to these new conditions and finally finally we are back to where we belong with each other, which really changes everything. We are together now, and the three of us are a family now, with so much to look forward to and the grown-up days of our baby so, so far away from now.

As of last week, our perfect boy says "da-da" and "thank you" and "yellow," and they're all the same word. He says "bath" "baaAAAAaaaaaf," with that short "f," and there is almost nothing in my entire life that has delighted me more; every day I look forward to the moment lifting him from his high chair after dinner when I get to ask him if he's ready for his bath and he looks at me and says that. Every day I'm thrilled when I hand him something and he says "deh dehhhh" - thank you. And the way he makes these awful noises that are an imitation of any racecar sounds we make at him.

I'm sorry about that rough start taking up approximately 3/4ths of the year and 4/4ths of the pregnancy. Sorry that I couldn't just relax, stop being afraid, and have more happy times. Next time, when I know what to expect, (if there is a next time but we won't talk about that).....next time will be different. But Raleigh, I guess, will probably know that his beginning didn't go how it should have.

But hopefully he'll also know that we love him more than anything, say to each other every single day what a treasure he is, how we can't remember how we could've thought that our old life without him could possibly be enough.

Happy birthday, sweet boy. We love being with you and are so excited to see what this year brings.